Recommended Classic Prose on Tung Flower: Feng Zikai's Prose "Wutong Tree"

Tung flower is not in the flower spectrum, but belongs to? Extra? These flowers. All along, we always praise the beauty and fragrance of flowers, but seldom pay attention to tung flowers. The following is a classic essay describing tung flowers that I recommend to you for appreciation.

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The buttonwood trees in the yard, pink and purple flowers like horns, have bloomed many times, and clusters of small leaves like cattail fans have fallen many times. Accompany you away from home, spend a sunrise and sunset, a snowy day. Under the buttonwood tree, the story of falling in love and losing youth is told. I see the white clouds go to the east of the Yellow River, the geese fly north alone, and the sunset reflects the beautiful sunset.

Standing in a foreign land, thinking of the night with you, looking at my hometown alone, endless homesickness and missing make it more chaotic. A past event has been given to you, writing life with youth and singing happiness with youth. Telling stories and writing poems, but never writing a word of love, time passes and leaves. We have been together for many years. It was a midsummer night, reunited after a long separation, listening to frogs coming from afar, drinking snowflake beer and telling my own story. Joy was accompanied by tears, sadness was accompanied by smiles. We cried. Laughed. Silent again, although not holding hands is better than holding hands, sitting silly. Look at this. Silence, looking at the sparse stars together, occasionally hiding in the clouds. No hugs, no kisses, a regret is happiness, and a regret is attachment. A little blind. But there is no mistake, there is a kind of ignorance. But romantic. That night has become our eternal concern and yearning until today.

If one day I go back to the past, I will wait for you at that night and that place, so that the love without hand can start again. Let the girl named Xiao Fang in the village put on a wedding dress and accompany me through that era. Let's meet at the age of 80, build a home for our former love, make it homeless, have a book of poems written by you and me, and write down the white mountains, black water, flowers and grasslands, as well as the long-awaited love. We are used to losing and acquiesce in having. The memory of love, let the soul transcend, let stubbornness stick to the old age and make an oath. Warm our indelible memories, really bless true love, although there is loneliness along the way, it is also worthwhile.

The memories of more than 7,000 days and nights have been forgotten and become a part of this life story. Cherish that innocent heart and spend the rest of your life in warmth. Even if you are injured, tired and painful, you should really face it, live a simple and calm life without regrets.

A little starlight illuminates loneliness, and I just want to be with you. As long as I am with you, I love tolerance and understanding. Love and love are a wonderful encounter in my life. Under the buttonwood tree, there is a label that was once lost, piecing together a picture of love, the beauty of meeting, and the password to open gorgeous love. As long as you pass by, as long as you understand, the sycamore blooms with me for a while, and the sycamore blooms with you for a lifetime. I don't want to see you from a distance. I have broken your love and signed for it. We agreed to watch the snow together when the phoenix tree blooms. When the phoenix tree blooms, we will meet in our dreams, know each other and live in the vicissitudes of life. With you, we are not afraid of wind and rain. With your company, the sun will be brighter tomorrow.

Tonghua classic prose recommendation: Wutong flowers bloom

Sitting in the study on the fourth floor, the strange smell in the depths of my memory came again. When the strange smell with a slight medicinal smell poked its head out of the window, I knew that this season had entered a clear and affectionate April.

Outside the study window, there are still two huge phoenix trees, which have already propped up a splendid simplicity. A string of lilacs, crowded around, are blooming brilliantly and foolishly in the high sky at this time when apricot flowers, peach blossoms and pear flowers are fading in turn.

If I hadn't lived in a tall building, I couldn't have looked at those buttonwood trees blooming in the air so carefully. The tall buttonwood is tall and straight, always emitting its fragrance in the air. The clean and blue void is the place where tung flowers fly. In this void, I saw clean lilac tung flowers, holding hands, shining brightly in the light and shadow of late spring.

Holding the window, through the dense tung flowers, you will see the distant villages of the old days. In the patchwork yard, everyone has one or two phoenix trees. Outside the village, there is also a lush phoenix tree. Every year at the end of spring, there is a strange smell of medicine in the air. Looking for it, I found a faint purple in the distance, swaying in the branches of the fragrant wind, but in my eyes it was like a banshee that puzzled the unknown world. Weak me, tall tree, naturally can't take off the bell in the fairy tale full of fantasy. Just like, in those tung flowers that don't provoke others' eyes, a pair of bright eyes and some ignorant whimsy slowly sway.

Tung flowers will naturally wither and be sent down from the air by the wind. Tung flowers will fall to the ground like frost, accumulate thick, and gradually become a residual makeup, just like I have rummaged many times but can't find the remnants of the spring nest. I dare not trample, pick up a tung flower, tear off the calyx and send it to my thirsty lips. That sweetness reminds me of the smell of dressing up in front of the mirror when my sister next door got married. On that day, there were no tung flowers in full bloom. The tung blossoms that day have filled the yard, and the sky seems calm and gloomy. There is a faint pulse in the window, such as falling flowers in the courtyard outside the window, and the fragrance has been suppressed by clouds for a long time.

In a teenager's dream, the plain tung flower hangs high, but it always pretends to be a flower demon, which makes people look up. Tung flowers are doomed to wither, and the withered tung flowers are kissed by the soil under the cottage in the country, stained with black dust. Teenagers' hearts hang their heads in such a sudden wind and fall in the wind that leaves in spring? In the world where tung flowers groan and dance, I am so willing to sink. Today, I once again spent time wandering in the world of tung flowers and gently opened the title page of that yellowed dream. People and tung flowers are boating and singing in the classical clear stream.

Newborn tung flowers may know their fate, but they will still climb high branches, hoping to compete for fragrance in the dust-free and noisy air. Just like now, outside the window of my study, two tung flowers are blooming warmly and quietly. Although they also fly from the ground, I have the support of the building. Donghua and I are close at hand, facing each other through the window, and the quiet exotic atmosphere seems within reach.

Two phoenix trees in full bloom outside the window are still different scenery in my eyes, although I can't remember how much time they spent, how many flowers and teenagers' wishes were buried in those landing times. Outside the window in front of me, the huge canopy is illuminated by the sun, and all the tung flowers are inspired by the sun and the wind, so fresh and free from dust. I saw the clouds fluttering enthusiastically, and strings of trumpet-shaped flowers were blowing some sweet and astringent thoughts to the clouds in the sky.

I used to be ashamed of the height of those buttonwood trees. If I am in the wild, if I don't look from a distance, how can those two trees and flowers jump into my field of vision? Fortunately, with the help of architecture, I saw such bright and clear tung flowers today. Perhaps, it is the late opening and high fragrance of tung flowers that make tung flowers so noble, simple and natural. Why should people care? Tung flowers stand high in the air, with their heads down and blooming simply and aimlessly. I remember that season, which used to be a spring of flowers.

Easy, in; The phoenix tree was born in the morning. ? At this time, the peach blossom and pear blossom have already left, and the tung flower is entering my clear stream of boating from a dream long ago. In this narrow stream, Tung Hua smiled brightly and lit up my eyes with a few drops of blooming mist.

Phoenix flies thousands of miles, not on the road. ? Eyes illuminated by tung flowers, through the dense branches, pursue the mottled sky. Unknown time, still hidden in the depths of the cloud.

Is the depth of that cloud the direction in which the phoenix flies?

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The Spring Festival Gala is long overdue, and the pace of this spring seems to be a little later than in previous years. Living in the city, commuting, busy and regular life, I have no time to take care of those idle flowers and plants on the roadside. The concept of spring is limited to the blooming of street trees, willows on river banks, primrose yellow and artificial green belts.

But just yesterday, I passed a place called Jiazhuang (an ordinary village with northern characteristics near the edge of the city), and my emotional memory of that long-lost spring revived. It's a special fragrance that I haven't seen for a long time. It comes with the smell of old friends and invades my nose. It's like an old smoker in the hands of a bearded old man. It comes from the depths of history and exudes the burning fragrance given by time, which is long and thick. The tentacles of my mind have to be tracked and scratched in the depths of my dusty heart. ? Oh, isn't this the smell of phoenix tree? .

Stop and look around, looking for the most fragrant place? In the corner of Zhuangtou, piles of purple flowers are burning and sultry, and sycamore flowers are blooming wantonly. Huge clusters of flowers poured down from above the roof, like smoke, in full swing. It's just the hair of a young woman who just dyed it. Flowers that are gradually purple in white are numerous but not chaotic, fresh but not bright, fragrant but not greasy, embracing each other and overlapping, giving in to each other. There is no shyness here and there is no need to avoid it. Just like a big stage, each bouquet has its own full display position, not a peony-like solo dance, not to mention an opera in the rose garden. What's staged here is a large-scale spring dance with dreamy purple as a feast. Tung Hua only needs to open his mouth on the full stage, listen to the bugle of the cuckoo in spring and dance with the graceful lyre of the willow.

Remember when I was a child, there was a phoenix tree forest behind my hometown, which is probably an old saying? Planted buttonwood, attracted by golden phoenix? Good luck, my family likes this forest. That's when my special feelings for Indus began to sprout. Whenever the spring breeze blows over the windowsill, this phoenix tree forest begins to put on her most beautiful clothes of the year. In the singing of the partridge in the empty mountain, the phoenix tree flowers bloom wantonly and lonely. Accompanied by tung flowers in spring, when I was a child, I always liked Mazar-e-Mazar, who was carrying four legs, sitting by the stone mortar at the back door, looking at this string of long purple bouquets with tender cheeks, waiting for the legendary arrival of golden phoenix.

Now think about how ridiculous it is. Later, my family moved north, and moved out of my hometown with Tung Hua in my memory. Later, this buttonwood forest was also transferred to the people with the old house. Many years have passed, but the stem, the leaf and the flower, together with the unique fragrance of the phoenix tree flower, have been treasured in my memory, which makes me deeply concerned. The more so, the more difficult it is to let go?

Tonghua Wan Li Danshan Road? Li Shangyin, the lover of the Tang Dynasty, may also have a preference for tung flowers, although there is no textual research. However, from the perspective of poetry and scenery, I think that in the spring when the weather is sunny and the flowers are overflowing, Li Lao also encountered an extremely provocative affair with tung flowers: the ridge of the road, the burning tung flowers, the gorgeous colors and the endless mountains are so spectacular. From where? Is Little Phoenix clearer than Old Phoenix? I firmly believe that my lover, like me, also has the beautiful expectation of indus attracting phoenix. It's just that he prefers the chirping of the phoenix falling on the buttonwood, and I love the magnificence of Tonghua Danxia more.

Some people think that when the phoenix tree blooms, there are flowers without leaves, which are insipid and tasteless, not as beautiful as other flowers, and the leaves and flowers are mutually supportive and charming. I think that's because he doesn't know the phoenix tree and the tung flower, so he doesn't have love to live.

The moment when flowers bloom and tung flowers fall, the moment when tung flowers fall to the ground, it is also free and easy, and it is not reluctant to part with children. In a flash, you can complete that magnificent leap, leaving you no time to freeze. ? Falling in love is not a heartless thing? Only tung flower is the most realistic interpretation of this poem, because her curtain call brought out tung leaves. Indus flowers are scattered under the trees, at the end of fragrance and color, melting themselves into this land, supporting the green leaves and cheering for the branches.

Tung flower! When I was a child, I saw the beauty of appreciating each other's souls. I want to tell the world about your wonderful life, not for coquetry, not for flattery, but for the fairy tale that originated from childhood spring, that eternal infatuation.

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